


A Name

by The_Doom_Dahlia



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: (two of them depending on if you go by revival or original), Canon Jewish Character, F/F, HIV/AIDS, Mentions of Character Death, Time Period: Early 80s, allusions to Marvin's possible medical future, jewish cooking, set almost two years after the events of canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-09-17 07:11:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9311012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Doom_Dahlia/pseuds/The_Doom_Dahlia
Summary: Charlotte comes home after a day at the hospital, weary and laden with new information, and Cordelia tries to comfort her.





	

The smell of brisket hung heavy in the air as Cordelia cooked, loudly singing along to anything that came on the radio, from Olivia Newton-John to Toto. Ever since Jason’s Bar Mitzvah, her skill with Jewish cooking had grown by little frog-like leaps. Perhaps it was natural progression, but perhaps it was out of a fervent desire to help Marvin since she and Charlotte often brought him food and had ever since that awful August two years ago. But Cordelia tried to keep up morale for the sake of everyone else, especially for Jason. So, she worked happily, the glitter on her nails glinting in the light as she danced around, loudly singing along to the Human League until she heard Charlotte come in.

Spearing a bit of the meat on a fork, she bounded over to her wife, about to gleefully tell her about all of the food she’d made today for some baby shower a few blocks over, when she noticed how weary and sad-eyed she looked. “...are you okay?” she asked her.

Charlotte sighed. “I’m not hungry, dear.” she told her, and slumped into a chair, head in her hands.

After making sure that everything was safe, Cordelia sat on the arm of the seat, running her manicured nails through her hair in a vain attempt to soothe her. “What’s wrong, honey?” she asked softly, worried.

Charlotte slowly looked up at her wife and suddenly pulled her close, squeezing her tightly and burying her head into her shoulder. When arms were placed around her, she said something that was muffled in the shoulder of her darling’s dress.

“What was that?” Cordelia asked, still running her fingers through Charlotte’s hair.

Raising her head to look into her eyes, Charlotte croaked out “AIDS. They-They have a name for what killed Whizzer.”

“Oh.” Cordelia didn’t understand how that was a sad thing, but tried her best to think of something good to say, the only thing rolling out being “I don’t understand how that’s bad.” She didn’t like the acidic, burning feeling that hit her heart when she said that. Bad move on her part.

“God, Cordelia. It just makes me think...would we have been able to save Whizzer if we had a name for it back then?”

Cordelia sighed, hugging her tightly. “Oh Charlotte, there was nothing more that you could do. You did everything possible for him. You gave him all the medical help you could, and we all surrounded him with love until he...until he went.” She could feel herself choking up, and swiped her wrist against her eyes. “There was nothing more we could do.”

Charlotte wiped her own eyes, looking up at her. After a moment of silence, she smiled a little. “That would have been more poignant without the brisket sauce on your face.” she pointed out, giving a watery chuckle.

Cordelia hadn’t realized it until she said something, and swiped her hand on her face, noticing a smear of red just the barest distance from her tear duct. She laughed weakly, and smiled before hugging her. “I love you, Charlotte.”

“I love you too, Cordelia.” Charlotte said gently, kissing her temple before assisting her with getting the sauce off her face. “How about we try that brisket and everything else you made, huh?”

Before she could even really finish, Cordelia was on her feet, running to the kitchen, eagerly chittering about her brisket and the latkes and her failed attempt at kugel, and Charlotte stood slowly, gripping the arm of the chair. There was still that dull ache of sadness in her chest, and the nagging thought that Marvin had an appointment with her on Monday, complaining of weakness when he stood and pain that rung through his whole body, symptoms that echoed Whizzer’s all too well and all too terrifyingly, but for now there was Cordelia’s love and peace and the smell of her cooking to make the world a little less shaky and a little less bleak.

And that was enough.


End file.
